The year was 2011. I, a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed senior at the University of Southern California, walked into one of my last Writing 340 classes of the semester.
“Hi Professor! I have an idea for my creative project!”
The idea was a blog, and the idea was born in a coffee cup. I’d been staring into mine the previous night, wondering what my “takeaway project” was going to be once I exited those exposed-brick, hallowed halls.
“I’m going to write about my sister!”
That was about all the clear objective I possessed. Years of growing up with a sister with autism had shown me I had a lot to say, and I was going to find out a way to say it all . . . somehow.